


something worth remembering

by IridiumPhoenix



Series: scp au [1]
Category: Video Blogging RPF
Genre: Alternate Universe - SCP Foundation, Angst, Gen, Hurt/Comfort, Memory Loss, Minor Violence, heavy on the hurt light on the comfort
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-27
Updated: 2020-12-27
Packaged: 2021-03-10 16:34:24
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,824
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28350237
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/IridiumPhoenix/pseuds/IridiumPhoenix
Summary: He is abruptly aware that there is a fundamental difference separating them. He is abruptly aware that there are claws on his hands.(previously titled "gone")based on @157-bees on tumblr's scp au, though not much knowledge of scp is needed to understand this particular fic
Series: scp au [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2076192
Comments: 7
Kudos: 154





	something worth remembering

**Author's Note:**

> Basically all you need to know from this au is that Ranboo is literally just an enderman/ghast hybrid pulled straight from the Minecraft universe into the SCP one, and the rest of the SMP crew are either SCPs or staff at the Foundation. 
> 
> Anyway, first ever published fic, enjoy! :>

Here is the first thing Ranboo remembers:

He is wandering through an orchard. The morning sun shines warmly through the canopy and creates a pattern on the ground. There are oranges hanging from the branches. He does not know what an orange is. He is happy.

~~_ (he doesn’t know where he is he wants to go home) _ ~~

He blinks. The sun is directly overhead. There are two people in front of him. One of them has a look of fear on her face. She stands slightly behind the other, who radiates curiosity and determination. She is trying to talk to him. He does not understand her language.

~~_ (how long has he been here where is he where is he) _ ~~

The brave one is deftly peeling away the rind of an orange and dividing it into its parts. She picks up a slice and eats it. She makes exaggerated chewing motions and smiles broadly before holding out her hand and offering him the rest.

He reaches out to take it and is gone.

He will never find the orchard again.

  
  


Here is how Ranboo learns he is different:

The orchard is dozens of jumps in the past. Now he stands in a long hall with a high ceiling. He is walking past rows of wooden benches towards an altar. From the windows, stained glass faces stare at him accusingly.

~~_ (it’s not right they should be purple they shouldn’t watch him) _ ~~

A door opens quietly in the corner. A woman’s voice floats out softly, a single word with a questioning lilt. It’s a different language this time, but still not one he can understand. He mimics her, marveling at the sound of his own voice. She steps into view, meets his eyes, and begins to scream.

~~_ (don’t look don’t look stop looking) _ ~~

It’s high pitched, drawn out, grating. There is a commotion from further in the building, shouts, and more people enter the room. They look at the woman, who has collapsed, and then at him. One man steps forward and shouts something angrily at him. He still does not understand. The man raises a fist and swings. He expects to jump away, as he has every time someone has tried to touch him. He does not.

~~_ (no violence in the holy land this is wrong wrong WRONG) _ ~~

He blinks, and he is lying on his stomach on the ground. There is a boot digging into his ribs and redgreen blood spattered on the floor. Someone grabs his wrists roughly, restraining them. Above him comes the sound of someone chanting what could be a hymn or a condemnation. He is yanked to his feet and forced to stumble to the altar. There is a basin of water there. The chanting becomes louder.

The water burns. It does not burn the people holding him down, or the man waving a cross at him. He is abruptly aware that there is a fundamental difference separating them. He is abruptly aware that there are claws on his hands.

~~_ (he has done this before he is made to fight he is made to hurt) _ ~~

He blinks. He is in a clearing by a stream. There is blood on his hands, darker red than that which was scattered around his head like a halo back in that long hall. 

He holds his hands under the water. This time, he does not scream.

  
  


Here is how Ranboo is brought to the Foundation:

This is the most populated place he’s been in by far. As usual, none of that population seems to appreciate his presence. The streets of the small town that had previously been filled with people going about their afternoons were now all but deserted. From the windows, he can see people pointing small black rectangles at him. Occasionally, light would flash from one of these devices, momentarily blinding him. He tries to ignore them and instead searches inside himself for the feeling of vertigo that always signified a jump. The sooner he could leave this place, the better.

_ ( ~~it’s been weeks he knows he’s not getting home he knows he won’t see them again)~~ _

There is a screeching of wheels at the end of the street. Three large armored cars pull into view. He considers what he’s seen in the whole of his memories, which span a month at best, and comes to the conclusion that this is probably not a good thing. He turns to run but it’s already too late. 

~~_ ( _ _ why does he know what being killed feels like) _ ~~

The figures with masks and guns that come pouring out of the cars do not kill him, surprisingly. Instead, they jam a syringe into his neck and hold him down until he stops fighting.

He is used to losing time. When he comes to in the small white room, he is not startled or scared. 

For the next hour - an estimation, as there is no clock in the room - he again tries to force himself to make a jump. For the hour after that, he loudly sings what he can remember from overhearing radios. The hour after that is spent hunched over a toilet as the last of the drugs leave his system violently. The hour after that he simply huddles on the small cot in the corner.

~~_ (he hates being alone it reminds him of something he can’t quite reach) _ ~~

On the fifth hour, a man in a lab coat steps into the room, accompanied by two of the armed goons that captured him before. The man clears his throat and speaks loudly and precisely. “Can you understand me?” 

He is shocked to find that he can. His voice is hoarse from singing, but he croaks out a quiet confirmation. The man nods, pleased. “You are in the custody of the SCP Foundation. We are an organization dedicated to protecting and researching anomalous beings such as yourself. As long as you cooperate, no permanent harm will come to you. Do you understand?”

“When will you let me out?”

The man twists his face into something resembling apology. “I’m afraid that’s not in the cards for you. You’ve caused quite the upset out there. With the nature of your appearance, it is simply not possible.”

~~_ (he’s seen what happens to people in cages he will not become another casualty) _ ~~

He is shaking. The man takes a step forward and holds out a hand, perhaps in comfort.

~~_ (perhaps the man will beat him like in the church and in the street and running towards the holy land and in the snow and and and) _ ~~

He is in another white room. In this one, a man in a white mask is chatting casually to a guard wearing a bandana. They both startle as he appears. The guard pulls out a weapon and speaks quickly into a device clipped to his shoulder. “Containment breach on Level 5, the new guy just bamfed into Dream’s room!” 

~~_ (what are they doing here why are they looking at him like that why does he know their names) _ ~~

The guard steps forward and he is gone again, this time into an office where a harried looking man is reviewing files and gulping down strangely thick black liquid from a coffee mug. The man looks up and opens his mouth and he is gone again. A cafeteria full of people. Gone. A long, empty hallway. Gone. A metal room containing a crimson egg. Gone. He is losing track.

~~_ (he is losing himself) _ ~~

A blue sky. A field of long grass. A small, innocuous shed behind him and the sun shining down on him. Finally, he is outside. He takes in a deep breath of fresh air, picks a direction, and takes a few steps. 

The door opens behind him.

“Like I said, leaving is simply not an option.”

It’s the last thing he will remember clearly for a long time.

  
  


Here is how Ranboo finds himself and his family:

There is a man in the room. He has a green hat and a concerned expression. He also has wings, but that could be another hallucination. He did not see this man come into the room. Between the memory loss and the powerful cocktail of sedatives they’ve been pumping into him, this is not surprising. 

~~_ (he knows this man how does he know him) _ ~~

The man is talking to him. He struggles to listen. “...hey. Hey, mate. Can you hear me?” He nods sluggishly and the man sighs in relief. “Alright, that’s good. Listen, I need you to tell me what they did to you so I can fix it. Can you do that for me?”

His mouth is dry. “Drugsss,” he manages to slur out. 

“Okay, I can deal with that. Can I come over there?” He just blinks at the man. The man moves over and sits lightly on the cot next to him. “I’m going to touch your head now. It won’t hurt, I swear.” There is nothing he can do to stop the man. He waits for the inevitable blow or jump.

Instead, there is a light touch on his forehead and his mind clears for the first time in days. “What did you do to me?” He gasps out, reeling from the shock.

“Just took the drugs out of your system.” The man smiles at him. “I’m Phil, you got a name?”

“I...I don’t know.”

“Ooh, we can’t have that. Do you want me to find out for you?”

“You can do that?”

Phil grins. “I can do a lot of things. Just gotta…” He reaches over and touches his forehead again. “Does Ranboo sound right to you?”

“Ranboo. Raaaanboooo.” He tests the word out, rolling it around in his mouth. “Yes, I think that’s me.”

~~_ (he finally has a name not just the number they gave him) _ ~~

“Do you want to come meet the others? I can talk to Sam about getting you moved closer to the rest of us, if you’d like. It’s horrible being cooped up in these rooms.”

Ranboo attempts to get out of the cot but his legs buckle beneath him. Phil reaches over to help him up and he is gone.

~~_ (no no not again) _ ~~

He is on a road in front of a line of small residential homes. It’s getting dark. Next to him, Phil clicks his tongue. “Well, this won’t do.”

Ranboo jumps in the air like a startled cat. “What-- you’re here?!”

“Let’s get back, yeah?” With that, Phil takes his arm and suddenly they’re back inside a white room. This one is larger, however, and full of strange looking people. A pig in a crown, the same masked man as before, an anthropomorphic fox and so many more...and all of them staring straight at him. 

~~_ (“welcome to the smp, ranboo”) _ ~~

Phil claps him on the back. “Let’s get you introduced!”

Ranboo has the oddest feeling that he already knows these people.

**Author's Note:**

> Like I said, first ever published fic, so I crave validation. 
> 
> Title from Devil Town by Cavetown.
> 
> Also, definitely check out @157-bees on tumblr, it's a fun place to be!


End file.
